


A Step Inside's a Step Too Far

by Rat_chan



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, fantasized rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 20:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15870828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rat_chan/pseuds/Rat_chan
Summary: "Why didn't you just ask for a conjugal visit with MacGyver?"Murdoc thought about that request, as a sick joke, in return for his help... Until he realized it would not be a joke.And it became less a joke every time he thought about it.*I don't consider this that explicit, but felt I should err on the side of caution rating-wise.





	A Step Inside's a Step Too Far

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the Season 1 episode Hole Puncher with flashbacks to Screwdriver.
> 
> The title is lyrics from the Scissor Sisters' song "Sex and Violence."
> 
> The change in tense in the latter portion is deliberate.

"So the blond Boy Scout's going to be taking badass lessons from you." Tennant's voice carried through the bars between them. That seemed to be the man's only take-away from Murdoc's imaginative retelling of his visit from MacGyver and the new boss. "Should be interesting." The former SAS agent sounded anything but interested. Well, it was his last night in the joint and he was no doubt eager to get on with The Plan.

"Nothing remotely like our lessons, Jason." Though it would be fascinating to see the look in MacGyver's eyes at even the most mundane of those. "Our little... seminar is more about Angus not getting himself killed the moment they look into those baby blues."

"Ugh." There was a familiar sound of disgust from the next cell. Tennant had not met Mac yet, so he did not understand his teacher's... preoccupation. "Seriously, Murdoc, why didn't you just ask them for a conjugal visit from Angus in return for your services."

The assassin ignored the warm sensation that started in his head and shivered down through his abdomen. "I thought about it," he replied, totally honest for once. "Both times I got a visit from the Phoenix family. You know, just to see the _looks_ on their faces." Not as honest, there. "But it wouldn't be anywhere near as much fun without Jack in the room."

"I suppose not." Jason had been made well aware of Dalton's protectiveness. "Whatever." He had probably been hoping Murdoc would react or reveal more. "G'night."

"Sweet dreams," The killer used the syrupy voice he knew the other man loathed. "Big day tomorrow!"

It did the trick. There was another groan and the sound of cheap sheets and bed springs as Tennant rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. With that, Murdoc had all the privacy he could hope for. He closed his eyes and gave in to the warmth he had pushed away moments before.

"I want a conjugal visit with MacGyver." He had toyed with the idea of responding to Riley and Wilt with that. No doubt those two, in desperately over their heads, would have lost their pathetically thin veneers of confidence to reveal deliciously horrified expressions. Murdoc had just started using the time Wilt was filling with his rambling bravado to picture the man's shuddering disgust... when another image had intruded. Angus MacGyver, in the junkyard, fearful resignation morphing into smug satisfaction _._

 _That_. That had been their mutual undoing. That moment remembered had triggered a rapid flood of fantasy that Murdoc had needed to just as rapidly suppress. He had not even dared carry on with that little joke as he might have revealed too much.

"A book," he had said instead. His visitors had taken his odd inflection as nothing more than his overall... strangeness. And they had left in a satisfying state of irritation.

Left Murdoc not to his soaps and all their wonderful misery. But rather to postponed imagination.

Warmth turned to positive heat in his groin as he recalled that fantasy. He had not known or really cared how conjugal visits worked, so he had imagined MacGyver coming to him in that same interrogation room.

_"I didn't think you'd come, Angus." He surveyed the blond man from his seat, leaning well back as he was unchained for this visit. He had also unfastened his jumpsuit to the waist in preparation for this visit and left the shirt part bunched around his midsection. The use of his given name -- and that sight -- clearly heightened Mac's discomfort and he gave a barely perceptible shiver of disgust. Quite nice, in its way, but... "Anything for dear, sweet Nikki, right?" It was mostly an educated guess, but apparently the arrow hit the mark. He looked disconcerted, his frown deepening. Yet the name had the desired effect._

_He shook his head, both in false denial and as a physical shaking off of apprehension. "We're not here to chat, Murdoc." There was a positively savory blend of fear and determination in those blue eyes. "You wanted me, you got me."_

Want. _Yes, that word seemed to describe the unaccustomed sensation that suffused Murdoc's mind and body. It must have shown in his eyes because MacGyver took a half step back, swallowing audibly, bravado faltering in his gaze. The assassin's own gaze traced down the column of that anxiously working throat, to its hollow, faintly glistening with nervous sweat, and down to where a bead of that perspiration slid down the open collar of a red, button-up shirt._ Blood _, the color suggested. The man's heart was undoubtedly pumping that fluid vigorously under that breastbone. Murdoc took in the shuddery expansion of ribs before sweeping his gaze down to where a belt defined a slim waist above narrow, denim-clad hips. He narrowed his eyes as he slowly raised them back to meet Mac's, which were darkened with apprehension and revulsion._

_"I see you dressed for the occasion," he said finally, allowing his mouth to curve in a predatory grin. "How thoughtful." He pushed his chair even further from the table that lay between them, a hand absently slipping into a gap between his jumpsuit closures, savoring the heat growing there. Mac shuddered at that, closing his eyes and clenching his fists at his sides. "Come here," Murdoc crooned softly, invitingly and watched the other man shake his head minutely. "For Nikki."_

_Blue eyes snapped open, filled with anger, defiance, and righteousness. MacGyver stalked across the room and around the table to stand directly before the chair. He stared down at its occupant._

_"Take off your belt," Murdoc ordered, sitting straighter and widening his eyes. He withdrew his hand from his jumpsuit and brought it up to meet the other in a little steeple in front of his chest. He watched shame overshadow the other emotions in Mac's gaze... suffuse his skin with blood. Still, the man complied and the strip of leather snaked out from denim loops with a lascivious sound. "Hand it over, would you?" The killer tried to keep his tone light, flippant, but the heat that was pulsing through him roughened his voice. "Angus," he warned as he watched flight begin to win the battle over fight._

_Without warning, he jumped out of his chair, grabbed MacGyver's shoulder, turned him, and pushed him face-down onto the table. The sudden violence shifted the balance to fight and the blond man struggled against him so delightfully as Murdoc pressed against him. Mac tried to lash out with the only weapon he had in hand: his belt. But his captor used that motion to twist that arm painfully against the small of his back and turned that weapon against him as he bound both arms together with it._

_"No..." That small negation vibrated through Murdoc -- sent that earlier word, want, pulsing through him... Down to harden in his groin... Out to move fingers to coil in overlong blond locks._

_"Oh,_ yes, _MacGyver." He leaned in close to breathe in Mac's ear. The bound man shuddered against him, but stilled when that brought him into delicious contact with the hardness in Murdoc's groin. "Mmm... so much yes." He ground his hips once against his captive's and reveled in the friction and the inarticulate sound of disgust and surrender the action drew. Without another word, he shifted until one arm pinned MacGyver to the table and his free hand worked first on the blond's pants and underwear, then on his own._

Yes. _He shifted his grip again, once again grabbing a shoulder, and pressed himself against MacGyver. As that one visible clouded blue eye fluttered shut and white teeth pressed into a quivering lip, Murdoc positioned himself. And when those teeth drew a few drops of scarlet blood, he thrust in._

_"Ah!" Mac's strangled cry of pain drowned out Murdoc's own groan of pleasure and pain._

_"Relax." It came out somewhere between soothing and commanding. He rocked his hips, pulling out infinitesimally before pushing in further. "Breathe." Again. "I'm not ready to kill you yet." And again until he was fully inside Mac._

_A single tear -- of agony or shame or both -- leaked from a tightly shut eye. That soft, heated body shuddered -- with pain, revulsion, defeat, or all three -- around him. It only took one last, hard rock of his hips and..._

The aftermath of that fantasy had been lost to a blaze of white. That time. It was not quite right now.

MacGyver's hair was shorter now. Murdoc liked it. It had made the man look more innocent, more vulnerable somehow. With Mac there himself, sitting beside his apparently unflappable boss, and the overprotective Dalton undoubtably on the other side of that door... The temptation to request an assignation had been nearly irresistible. At first he had thought Matilda had picked up on it and that was why she had sent MacGyver from the room.

 _Well_. He pushed that away for now and recalled instead that one-on-one time later and how close he had been to the other man. How he had almost felt Mac's heat, his breath... his mixture of distaste and intrigue, confidence and fear...

As the _want_ in him shifted, changed, grew, so too did Murdoc's fantasy.

This time, when Mac entered his daydream, he was wearing that green shirt. Maybe he had left that jacket with Jack, who was shouting outside the room.

This time, it was comments about bringing down Ominous and saving countless lives and earning his merit badge in counter-terrorism that drew MacGyver in and closer, manipulated his feelings and pliability.

This time, Murdoc made the blond man remove the cuffs... undo the closures on the jumpsuit with slightly trembling fingers and half-averted, disgust-filled gaze. There was still the command to take off the belt, though he was busy pulling out of the sleeves of the jumpsuit while he was savoring that sight and sound.

This time, there was no sudden attack...

 _"Closer," he beckoned. He added, when the other man remained unmoving. "I_ will _bite you if you_ don't." _His half-mocking tone brought a satisfying shade of irritation to the shamed mix of emotion in those blue eyes. When MacGyver finally obliged, Murdoc's hands went immediately to his jeans, undoing the button, lowering the zipper, and slipping a hand inside before the blond man could react._

_"What--?" The question cut off as questing fingers teased Mac's groin. "Murdoc, this... Damn it, this wasn't part of our deal!" His voice had a panicked edge to it, despite the swearing._

_"It's a_ conjugal _visit, Angus." The killer pulled the jeans off those slim hips before returning one hand to its previous ministrations and the other around to caress the top of Mac's cleft, just under the waistband of his underwear. "Like man and wife -- mutual enjoyment." As Murdoc deepened his caressing and probing, MacGyver shuddered delightfully in his hold. "If you think about it, you're really coming out..._ on top _in this arrangement."_

 _"I..." Mac's brow furrowed and the corners of his eyes wrinkled._ _He gripped his lower lip in his teeth and his nails dug into his palms... It looked so wonderfully painful. And yet, his hips undulated of their own volition, pressing him into Murdoc's touch. "I can't do this!" He tried to move away, but his jeans tangled around his knees and sent him stumbling against the table. Despite that, he tried to glare at the seated man. "We'll figure something out without you."_

No. _The word throbbed through Murdoc as he took in the disheveled form before him. Shame and revulsion could not quite overcome the faint mist of desire that deepened the blue of those eyes. MacGyver's chest heaved with the half-panicked breaths he was taking. And his entire body glowed with a flush of arousal, from the tips of his ears down to his exposed thighs. His hips made involuntary, minuscule thrusting motions against the table._

_"You can't go." Murdoc's voice was husky from his own mounting arousal. His hand was raised in a fist before him. He swallowed, willed his voice to a more controlled tone, and elaborated, "You'll never fool the Organization without my help." He deliberately opened his fist and moved the hand in theatrical demonstration._

_"What?" MacGyver's eyes locked on Murdoc's, a new intensity lighting them._

_"Oh, I forgot to say 'spoiler alert'." The assassin could finally approximate his usual flippant tones. "But Ominous is the Organization that you and dear, sweet Nikki have worked so hard against." He shifted his gaze toward a far corner of the ceiling as he raised a finger and tapped it against a mock frown."What would she think if you threw away her one chance to come back to her old life?" His gaze snapped back to MacGyver. "To you?"_

_"I..." Murdoc watched as Mac closed his eyes tightly and raised his free hand to his head. His whole body moved with his slow, audibly drawn breath. He held it for a tense moment before finally loosing it in a delectable explosion of frustration and desperation. It seemed he could not quite bring himself to voice his renewed submission, however. He merely crouched down, unlaced his boots, and rose once more. His eyes were closed again as he kicked out of his boots and jeans. His hands hesitated briefly before yanking off his underwear as well._

_Murdoc swallowed again as he took in the sight: MacGyver in nothing but shirt, socks, and a full-bodied flush of shame. "Open your eyes, Angus." The command came out sharper than intended, but it worked. The blond man's eyes were misted, but there was steel behind that gaze as well. "Mmm-mm." The seated man altered his small, involuntary moan into a half-mocking hum of approval. "You look good enough to_ eat, _MacGyver." He slouched a little in his chair and, with a roll of his hips that drew Mac's eyes to them, he pulled off his own clothing just enough to free his growing arousal. The standing man averted his gaze and his lower lip was again gripped between his teeth._

_"Come here." The tone used was one of invitation, but they both knew it was another command. When the other man edged close enough, the killer took MacGyver's right hand and guided him to stand with Murdoc's extended legs between his own. Then, while he built up saliva, he drew that hand to his mouth. Mac's eyes were back on his tormentor and he watched in revulsion as Murdoc wetly licked the entire length of his hand before pulling it down toward his own throbbing groin._

_"What are you doing?" The steel was warping rapidly in those eyes._

_"If you don't prepare me, Angus..." Murdoc wrapped the other man's fingers around himself, then moved their hands together. "It will_ really _hurt." He moved a hand to Mac's hip, gripping it tightly -- almost bruisingly. "Unless you like pain?"_

_"I..." He could almost hear the internal debate. Would it be easier to live with the pain or pleasure? In the end, MacGyver's only response was to pull his hand away and wipe it on his shirt._

Oh, well then. _Murdoc grabbed the other hip and pulled Mac forward and down until he was straddling the seated man's lap. "Are you ready, MacGyver?" Again there was no verbal response -- just a jerky nod and a closed-eyed frown. He kept his hold firm, feeling muscles tense in anticipation of pain as he slightly raised Mac up again while rolling his own hips back as much as his position would allow. Then, he pulled down and thrust himself solidly against the other man's groin._

_"What?" The steel was entirely gone from MacGyver's eyes when he opened them to look at his tormentor in confusion. His unaccustomed, delightful bewilderment increased as Murdoc moved one hand around to splay against his back and the other to where flesh met flesh between them. "What are you doing?" Mac caught his balance, holding onto the dark man's shoulders as a repeated thrust was accompanied by a stroke of the hand._

_"It's what_ we _are doing." Murdoc continued thrusting slowly and pumping their joined flesh. "It's a conjugal visit." He kept his voice as light as he could, but there was a husky edge to it. "We're_ enjoying _each other's company." He smiled as he felt the truth of that in his hand._

_"No..." MacGyver closed his eyes tightly against whatever he had seen reflected in Murdoc's gaze. "I'm not--" His words were lost in a gasp as his flesh became more sensitized. "I'm not..."_

_"Oh, but you are." Murdoc stopped moving for a moment so that Mac could become fully aware of his own small thrusting motions. They became more urgent when the other man still did not continue and an almost imperceptible whimper escaped his lips. That tiny sound of desire, frustration, defeat, and emotional pain... Murdoc's eyes slitted and his head almost spun in the ecstasy of that sound. He could not hold back any longer and he resumed his movements, harder and faster. With another intoxicating moan, MacGyver clutched at him, moved with him, desperately... hungrily... Harder and faster still until..._

Once again, Murdoc's fantasy dissolved into white. Imagination and thought gave way to physical sensation and any imagined aftermath was subsumed in afterglow.

\-- -- -- -- --

The next day, Murdoc kept the memory of that afterglow well out of his thoughts as he teased, taunted, and goaded MacGyver. He kept the want that had led to it well out of his voice and expression as he basked in the tide of emotions he manipulated. It got more difficult as Mac started throttling him, though. It was the first time they had ever made physical contact. Sure, the action was violent, but that violence was another connection between them.

Murdoc was actually grateful for the chains on his wrists. He might have been unable to keep his own hands to himself after that. But nothing held back his words and the _truth_ that vibrated between them with those words. MacGyver looked all around for an escape from that undeniable truth when he was saved by the chiming of his phone.

Later, when Murdoc was back in his cell, virtually alone, he replayed parts of the scene. MacGyver's resistance to the assassin's slow creep into his head... The feel of his fingers on Murdoc's throat... The desperate, vain denial of the growing connection between them...

 _Want_. It was a woefully insufficient descriptor for that bond. Too narrow, too ephemeral.

 _Need_. It was the closest Murdoc could get to the... imperative between himself and MacGyver. And, as his mind's eye went back to that one moment when Mac had gazed back at him with all the same intensity, that thought gave way to another.

What if MacGyver came to him willingly?

_Murdoc is standing, waiting for Mac in a room that is like an intimate crossing of his cell and the interrogation room. A low double bed sits in one corner and MacGyver's eyes dart to it briefly when he enters. He flushes slightly and the fingers of his right hand move as if manipulating an imaginary object._

_"Hello, Angus," Murdoc greets him evenly, a merest hint of warmth rather than his usual soupçon of ridicule in his voice. "I wasn't sure you would come."_

_"I had to." Is the succinct answer. Mac is most likely referring to their bargain, but still... The ambiguity of the phrase still sends a shiver through the dark man._

_"You and Matilda could have worked something else out, I'm sure." Murdoc allows his gaze to wander down from those perturbed blue eyes to take in wiry muscle under a tight-fitting black henley and lithe hips hugged by light denim. He takes in the nervous bob of an Adam's apple before his eyes slide back to meet MacGyver's. "If you'd_ wanted _to." He does nothing to keep the rising fever within him from heating his voice or his gaze._

_"I..." The flush is back and there is another uneasy working in the throat, but the returned gaze holds steady. "There wasn't enough time."_

_"For_ you _to improvise?" He limits his gesture to a simple outstretched hand. He lets the implication hang in the air between them for a moment. "Admit it, MacGyver."_

_"Admit what?"_

_"That you_ had to _come." Murdoc keeps his gaze fixed on the battle of emotion in those eyes as he slowly walks toward the other man. "That your pulse_ raced _the moment I asked for this... interlude." He can see Mac's respiration, if not his heart rate, speed at the words. "That you felt a_ thrill _of adrenaline when you entered this room." That excitement glows in blue eyes, overtaking the weaker sentiments. "That no one challenges you like I do..." Less than a foot separates them now. "Physically..." He starts making a slow circle around MacGyver. "Mentally..." The other man does not move, not even to fidget, except for his head, which follows Murdoc's movement as best he can. "Emotionally..." The dark man raises a hand toward Mac's shoulder, tracing the air above it, feeling the heat radiating from it, as he finishes his circle. "Morally..." His finger hovers an inch from an exposed collarbone, the distance decreasing momentarily with each of MacGyver's nearly ragged breaths. Murdoc can feel his own breathing race to match it._

_"You..." Another kind of excitement glazes Mac's eyes. His body leans forward, finally bringing them into contact. Murdoc cannot resist minutely sliding his fingers over that warm, soft skin, splaying them to take in a rapidly throbbing pulse. MacGyver's eyes flutter closed and his chin tips back slightly. "You're a killer," he says quietly, arguing more with himself, it seems._

_"Yes." Still, Murdoc agrees, moving his thumb to stroke the other side of Mac's neck. "And I'll kill you sooner or later." Nothing can change that promise between them. "But..." He slides his fingers, moving them together until he is almost gripping the top of the other man's sternum. "That's part of the draw..." He starts pulling his fingers away and feels that warm body move with them, as if drawn magnetically. "Isn't it?"_

_With a soft, inarticulate sound of desire and surrender, MacGyver closes the remaining distance between them, hands gripping the collar of Murdoc's jumpsuit as he brings their lips together. The kiss has all the subtle, suppressed violence that the dark man expected. Mac's lips are hard against his own and the other man immediately takes the opportunity, when Murdoc opens his mouth, to press his tongue inside. The dark man slides his own against it, lightly at first, then pushing back, tangling slightly before pressing into MacGyver's open lips. He moves his hand around to grip the back of the other man's head while the other goes to the small of his back. Slowly, inexorably, Murdoc draws Mac toward the bed, never breaking the clash of teeth and tongues. He withdraws his tongue only to nip at MacGyver's lower lip and is surprised when the bite is returned._

_With an inarticulate groan of his own, Murdoc slides the hand against Mac's back lower. He tightens his hold as he, first lightly, then firmly, grinds his hips against the other man's. MacGyver gasps, finally breaking their kiss, and his hold shifts from Murdoc's collar to his shoulders._

_"Murdoc," the blond man moans deliciously as their mutual heat is again brought into glorious, fricative contact. His now open eyes are almost midnight with desire. That look, that sound, that returned pressure... Murdoc almost gives in to MacGyver's attempt to push him onto the bed._

Almost. _Instead, he pushes the other man against the wall at the foot of the bed. He takes advantage of Mac's temporarily winded condition to pull the hands from his shoulders and pin them against the wall over MacGyver's head. He holds them there one-handed while the other hand slides up under the other man's shirt to caress his side. With another delectable noise, Mac bucks against Murdoc, who again returns the pressure, resuming that ecstatic friction between them. The blond man half-heartedly, almost playfully fights against the hold on his wrists, but one of his legs comes up to hook around the back of Murdoc's, allowing harder, stronger contact between their mutual arousal. He leans his head forward to deliver a line of sucking kisses to the dark man's jawline._

 _Murdoc leans in as well, bringing his mouth to MacGyver's ear. "So... impressed with you," he whispers against it before using his tongue to draw the lobe into a soft, biting kiss. Their rhythm becomes more urgent, erratic. Murdoc's hand slides back down Mac's side to clutch at his hip. MacGyver throws his head back against the wall and Murdoc moves with him, burying his nose and mouth in the other man's hair... his smell... his taste..._ So... impressed... _Their rhythm stutters, intensifies, stutters again until..._

It took a lot longer for Murdoc to recollect himself from his white haze of euphoria this time. Longer still for him to tire of basking in the afterglow, hand cupping himself and quicksilver images of MacGyver flashing behind his lids.

Later, after he had reordered himself and his mind, he thought of the reality ahead. Mac would survive. Neither the Organization nor Tennant were equal to him -- to killing him. That would eventually, once more, fall to Murdoc.

Murdoc would escape. That was certain. He would kill MacGyver. That was inevitable.

What happened between was endless, delectable _possibility_.

**Author's Note:**

> First, disclaimer: Murdoc's idea of "willing" is not the author's.
> 
> Second, this story grew from a self-indulgent concept for the first part. It took longer to write than planned because self-indulgence must give way somewhat to characterization. And damn it if the middle part didn't change a lot because not even Murdoc's fantasy MacGyver would cooperate!
> 
> Third, the author can neither confirm nor deny that the last segment went down that way due to equal parts kink for wall sex and a lack of desire to deal with the logistics of clothing and lubrication. Damn prison jumpsuits and Mac's boots!
> 
> Finally, here's a bit of dialogue I couldn't use because it just didn't end up fitting. If someone wants to take this as a prompt, I wouldn't say boo!
> 
> "Didn't you come prepared, Boy Scout?"
> 
> "I don't just carry those around in my pockets! I don't engage in casual sex."
> 
> "Nothing about this is casual, Angus."
> 
> ...


End file.
